road trip, part one: ca, az, nm. 5.22.7 - 5.26.7.

Katie, Brett and I began our road trip Tuesday from CalArts where I left my car off. For our first stop, we detoured to Riverside to meet a woman named Cherry I had been in contact with through Ebay, because I wanted to pick up in person the melodica she was selling to avoid shipping charges. Walking into the McDonald's, I noticed and waved at a small Asian woman, and soon after that, the four of us were gathered around a little table below a framed Hamburglar illustration looking at Cherry's melodicas.

In Blythe, California, we drove down a small highway that led past a high school and a middle school and into nothingness. We drove slowly past a crop trying to figure out what it was, and a policeman stopped next to us to ask if something was wrong. "Do you know what kind of crop this is?" We answered a question with a question. "Alfalfa," he said.

Entering Arizona.

Quartzsite, AZ.

Stopped next in Quartzsite with the ambition of eating at a roadside restaurant/bar. We saw one quaint little restaurant with a parking lot so empty and the lights inside dim enough that we'd never have thought it was open if there hadn't been an "open" sign. A young shy girl with glasses took our orders while an older woman with hickish 80sish haircut watched from afar. The food tasted like it had been microwaved. As we ate, the girl and woman sat silently with each other at a distant booth. Upon finishing, Brett started to pull out money to leave as tip, and the girl-waitress's eyes couldn't help but light up. Brett was going to put it in the "tip for chef" jar, and then I said, "no, leave it on the table." And then the girl's mouth couldn't help but widen into a huge unattractive smile. I think we made that girl's month.

Quartzsite, AZ.

Shortly after arriving in Phoenix, Claudia brought us to a small bar named Glam that had a light-up floor. We danced to Diana Ross and the Lovin' Spoonful. Some guy named Steve danced with us, and he and Claudia exchanged numbers by the end of our time there. The next day Claudia showed us Scottsdale. We went to an amazing ice cream shop straight out of the 1950s called the Sugar Bowl. I got the Super Float with vanilla/chocolate non-fat yogurt twist and mint soda, and when the waitress asked, "chocolate, caramel or marshmallow topping?" I said "all three." I was nervous that I had ordered something disgusting, but it was amazing, both in taste and in looks, a minty green and caramel brown swirl.

Superior, AZ. Not shown in this photograph: a mid-50s woman with short grey hair who was walking around inside the restaurant wearing only a shirt, and her legs were nice and smooth.

Globe, AZ.

At a grocery store in Globe, we met a cashier named Kim L. who was overweight, had a moustache, and had a band-aid on her nose from where she had cut herself trying to shave off the moustache. I asked her how she liked living in Globe. She said she hated it, and before she was done talking, a man standing in line behind us interrupted, saying "If you want a second opinion, I hate it here, too." He was wearing a purple shirt and buying a six-pack of Budweiser and a 40.

Albuquerque, NM. I've become a cowboy.

Been in Albuquerque the past four nights. My father keeps making us huge meals containing hotcakes, sunny-side-up eggs, bacon and orange juice. I almost forgot that I could eat this much, and when we went hiking afterwards, I felt like I could run uphill several miles. Coming back down from a rock-climbing romp on La Luz trail, I asked a woman how far she had hiked. She told us she had gone all the way to the top of the mountain and back; she had been hiking for eight hours and had gone a mostly-vertical sixteen miles.

On Central Ave, old Route 66, we saw these old ladies holding up "No war in Iran" signs and singing. We soon joined them. They call themselves the "Raging Grannies." The tall woman in pink is actually a man. She asked if I'd like lessons in falsetto singing, and then said, "it's easy! Laaa!"

Friday night I started feeling ill, and by the morning, I couldn't sleep because I was in so much pain. My father took my temperature, which was 102º, and then brought me straight away to the hospital. My father and I fought at a passive aggressive secretary about healthcare. She never actually responded to anything political I said, but glared at me for a half hour after I sat down. I have strep throat, and for this reason, I couldn't go to Santa Fe last night with Katie and Brett to visit Gabe. Instead, my friends Quinn and Valerie came over, and I slept through most of their visits. It'll be interesting to see how this trip continues, with me sick and on vicodin and with our plan to camp in Mentone, Texas tonight.

See the rest of the photos from the trip.